


Penchant

by IreneClaire



Series: Various Notions Collection [34]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Bromance, Danny Whump, Drabble Collection, Gen, Hurt Danny "Danno" Williams, Hurt/Comfort, No Plot/Plotless, Whump, Word of the Day self challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-11 02:52:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15963143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneClaire/pseuds/IreneClaire
Summary: " ....."Danny ...""Stop wasting... time! Just ... stop ... your stupid... self-sacrificing... insane penchants for being ... heroic! Now, give me your damned HAND!"  ........."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Notes: Ill mother, sick elderly dog which has become VERY worrisome (enough for me to be working from home), stuck on a longer story and taking sanctuary in a word of the day. Bad bad muse ... not cooperating. :-( Pah! So here we are with a Word of the Day, short on plot and nothing but hurt/comfort/angst. Probably not medically correct at all ... nope ... grain of salt and all that ... just for amusement purposes and stress relief. Not entirely completed, but nearly.
> 
> Good, old-fashioned whumpage, nary a plot in sight!

 

_**Word of the Day - Penchant: a strong or habitual liking for something or tendency to do something.** _

_Or, in Danny's case: I will follow Steve no matter his penchant for getting (me) into trouble ..._

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O**

 

"Steven, give me your hand!"

"I'm gonna pull you over if I do that!"

"No, you're not! So give me ... your damned hand!"

"Danny ..."

"Stop wasting... time! Just ... stop ... your _stupid..._ self-sacrificing... _insane_ penchants for being ... _heroic_! Now, give me your damned HAND!" Face red, sweat streaming into his eyes, Danny could scarcely breathe let alone talk and he was trying his darnedest to actually shout. With his diaphragm compressed by his tack vest and then against the wooden fence, each word came out as a pained, almost panicked whine.

"Both of you SHUT UP ...and do something!" Lou Grover all but barked at them, nearly deafening Danny's hearing in the process. At least the bigger man's demands got Steve moving though.

Danny finally felt the slap of Steve's free hand into his, but he went lower, fumbling for new purchase. Hyper-extending his upper body and losing any air he'd left in his lungs, Danny reached further yet. Grabbing palm to wrist, encouraging ... _forcing_ ... Steve to do the same, Danny closed his eyes in concentration. The fingers of his right hand closed like a vise around Steve's wrist. His left hand found purchase on that same wrist to take some strain off his right shoulder. He pulled back, his biceps bunching. Behind him, Lou had his belt and was using his much larger body as an actual anchor. But Danny felt the belt loosening. The small gold prong was coming loose from its small crab-like grip millimeter by millimeter. He felt it going and spread his own legs wide. But more horizontal than vertical, his toes were barely on the ground and - even with Grover holding some of his weight back - that subtle change in stance was all the old wooden fence needed to creak its final death knell.

"Williams ... _shit_ ," Lou cursed at the same time everything went to hell in a proverbial hand basket. "Hurry it up!"

The first crack was subtle as the pre-existing bend in the weather-worn wood began to give. Steve wasn't going to pull Danny over the rocky edge, it would be everything else which failed him. Life slowed down at the sound of a second, louder crackle. The old rail began to _v_ in the middle even more under Danny's weight when Lou stumbled forward. It wasn't even a half-step, but it was enough. Danny's eyes flew open, wide in stunned disbelief, meeting Steve's deeper azure ones which flashed angrily as if everything were Danny's fault even if it was Steve who'd once again dared to defy death.

Almost imperceptibly, Danny shook his head to negate Steve's demand: he would _not_ let go.

Their perp had grossly misjudged the leap off the high trail over the falls. He hadn't pushed off far enough to hit water and was now a tangled mess of broken limbs about five feet shy of the cascading falls. Steve had nearly followed suit. He'd tried to stop but had already leapt like a hurdling track star over the poor excuse of a fence. He'd stopped but the damp earth had given way and he'd slid just over the lip of the high shelf. And, if they didn't get him up in time… he was going to meet the same fate as their deceased thief, likely taking Danny with him because Danny absolutely refused to let go.

"Danny ... l'eggo," Steve breathed out. His left hand scrabbled against the rock wall while his legs pistoned wildly, the toes of his boots sending tufts of dirt and larger rocky debris thirty feet down below. He grunted in pain as Danny's fingernails dug into the skin of his bare arm and his shoulder was almost pulled out of its socket.

"C-climb," Danny gasped stubbornly. His breath nearly gone as he dug in harder. "Hurry!"

" _D'nno_ ," Steve said, the tone more of a plea as the two clung to each other, each struggling to not let go of the other even if Steve _thought_ he wanted to fall. Of course he _didn't_ and Danny gave that sketchy nod of refusal again, biting his bottom lip in determination. No matter what, he wasn't going to let go. Something was about to give though and while Steve no doubt could hear it, Danny could literally feel it.

That final crack was sudden, visceral, and deafening in his ears. Louder than Grover's voice had been.

Danny didn't go over the edge though. Nevertheless, it was close enough as he skidded a few inches forward until Lou Grover blanketed Danny's lower body with his ample size. Instead, Danny crashed chest first through the fence to the rock-hard ground. The force ricocheted his chin off the ground with stunning force. It jarred his brain and Danny bit his tongue.

It took all Danny's remaining willpower to not allow his hands to spasm as a spike of unexpected agony rippled through the fleshy, underside portion of his right tricep. He didn't even have the breath left to whimper as that hot slice of pain traveled in two directions. Down to his elbow and then upwards, towards his shoulder, Danny felt as if he'd been stabbed with a hot poker. Strength nearly gone and combatting this new hurt, Danny's head sagged down, his forehead just propped against his straining arms. Sweat rolled down his face and he struggled to breathe as his own breath came back at him off the hard-packed dirt.

 _Damn fool._ Danny was going to kill his partner if - no _once_ \- _once_ they got out of this.

"Climb!" Danny heard Grover yell in his ear. "Steve ... _climb_! Junior, here ... get over here!"

Danny groaned as Steve literally used his body to begin that climb. Refusing to release the hold he had on Steve's one wrist, Danny felt Steve grab his shirt first and then the thickest part of his tack vest to heave himself up a few inches. Sandwiched under Grover, Danny felt the older man shifting himself to grab for Steve in kind.

There'd be bruises for sure tomorrow if they made it though the next few minutes. _If_. Steve's foot slipped again and a severe jolt went through Danny's upper arm significant enough to tunnel his hearing into a vacuum of white noise. When his hearing returned to normal, Lou was cursing again and shouting for help. Danny at least registered that Steve was breathing hard and his muscles were quivering as badly as Danny's. But Danny couldn't do a damned thing more. Unable to move by that point, Danny sensed another person arrive a split second later. In relief, he sensed Junior fling himself to the ground next to him to grapple for Steve's hands, arms and upper body.

"Grab him," Lou grunted needlessly. "Come on Junior… Grab'em ... hurry it up." With his face practically buried in the dirt, Grover on top of him and Junior now flanking his right side, Danny's ability to breathe didn't have a chance to recover and unnerved by the newest pain in his upper arm, he was sinking fast and he desperately needed the two others to get his partner to safety.

"I got him! Hang on sirs!" Junior shouted and Danny suddenly wanted to laugh. _Sirs_.

Just how long was this kid going to keep going on with _that_? Especially at a time like this? Danny opened his mouth and made his lungs work just enough to wheeze in a tiny breath. It wasn't enough and his head swam.

 _Sirs_. Danny tasted blood on his tongue. He felt dizzy. Based upon their current straits, Steve didn't deserve the courtesy anyway. He wheezed in some more air; forcing it in. Grover's weight was counter-productive, plus with that pained inhale came bits of dirt for this troubles and Danny gurgled a harsh cough. He dug into his flagging reserves when some of the strain eased off his arms and then suddenly disappeared entirely. He took one breath and then another, his eyes tearing in abject relief even if each inhale sounded hoarse and strangled. Danny opened his mouth gasping like a fish, wanting to say something until Lou's weight left him and he was abruptly dragged backwards by his ankles away from the drop.

A new flux of dizziness sent his senses reeling. There was a hard tug on his arm, too, worsening that hot slice of pain through his shoulder. Evidently Steve was coming along with him due to the hold Danny still had on the man's hand. Either that, or the team was simply moving as one combined unit, all of their safety of paramount consideration. No matter how, or why, Junior's reprimand to be voiced by Danny would have to wait longer. Head bowed, eyes tightly closed, all that Danny could manage were a spate of reactive tears which sparkled along with the disconcerting field of stars behind his closed lids. He was still connected to Steve by his right hand and probably would stay that way a bit longer.

Palm to wrist and tighter than ever. His muscles were stuck in a vise which refused to open. Danny couldn't let go.

"Sir?" Danny heard Junior asking Steve over his head. There it was _again_ and Danny virtually guffawed inside his aching head. That boy needed a smack ... a good one. A moment later, Danny did garble a short manic chuckle at the very much typical reply. He was going to smack each upside the head but... later.

"O-okay," Steve panted.

_Damn fool._

"Fine. I'm good," Steve said a little stronger. _Of course he was good,_ Danny thought to himself. He squeaked an inelegant half laugh, half pained moan into the ground and then coughed. At least Steve was still breathing hard. _At least t_ here was _that_ while Danny lay limply on the ground in a world of hurt.

"You two done holdin' hands then?" Grover had the gall to chuckle. "Tani's down below ... our guy ... well, you probably already know ..."

"Yeah," Steve said. "Danny, let me help you up ... come on, buddy, let's go. You can yell at me later."

Danny could feel him getting to his feet, pulling up on Danny's injured arm, balancing probably on his toes ... absolutely baffled when Danny audibly gagged and tried to weakly pull him back down. The pain which exploded through his arm was excruciating.

"Hey? Hey, Danny ... you okay?" Steve asked. The worry and surprise were immediate and Steve shifted again. Suddenly he was on his knees, his tone worried and cautious. " _Danny_? Talk to me ... are you all right?"

_Damn fool._

Forehead bowed, Danny slowly rocked his head from side to side. He grimaced at the ache in his head, which suddenly leeched into his neck. His right arm was on fire. He lacked the ability to voice the obvious as he sank belly-deep into the ground. Eyes resolutely closed, his fingers maintained their crushing hold on Steve's hand.

**~ to be continued ~**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " ....  
> "Steve?" Danny asked, perturbed when he got no reply while Steve balanced there, evaluating him ... worried about him. Eyes closed, head buried in his arm, Danny scowled into the ground, utterly confused by the demands being made. Steve sounded distracted and that never boded well because it meant he was coming up with some ridiculous, off the charts, lame-brained idea. ...."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Notes: it makes me happy in an otherwise lousy week at home ("Crap-tastic" - I think I am officially in love with this word!) that everyone is enjoying this whump-fest! Thank you for all the well wishes and happy comments. Each is greatly appreciated!

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O**

 

The bubble of concern amongst his team moved from Steve and to Danny's well-being within less than a heartbeat. It was so fast, that Danny almost felt bad for being the focus of attention. No matter that it wasn't his fault at all. He sensed Junior hovering near Lou, the bigger man already cursing softly under his breath without really even knowing the reason why. But it was Steve who was suddenly down on his knees all over again, his face inches from Danny's while his free hand carefully slid along the length of Danny's right forearm.

"What is it?" Steve asked. "Shoulder?"

" _N-nuh_ ...," Danny stammered the sound out through gritted teeth. He took a raspy, broken inhale vainly trying to calm himself. The earthy smell of damp soil mixing with the tannic taste of blood in his mouth made him give out with a shallow cough when it caught in the back of his throat. He was lying on top of a piece of the broken fence rail and part of that was digging into his hip. His shoulder did hurt, as did practically every single part of his body. But there was something more ... something else which was making him feel not only sick to his stomach, but woozy from pain.

"Come on, buddy, talk to me," Steve encouraged him so softly that Danny wasn't sure anyone else could even hear the question. "Tell me what's wrong. If it's not your shoulder, what is it?"

 _Damn fool._ The mental complaint didn't go too far now though. It weakened and died in his head as Steve's honest concern for him ramped up. Danny winced at the ache in his neck, but that was still the least of his problems. When Steve tried to disengage their hands to double his efforts to do some basic triage, Danny's fingers slipped off Steve's wrist, sending that white-hot slice of agony through his arm. He recovered Steve's fingers, gripping them in a vise and only then did Danny force a few words out.

"S-stop. Something ...my _arm_ ...under m-my arm." Danny cringed when Steve's free hand moved above his elbow, his breathing once more stuttering in his lungs. He just knew the lightest of touches was going to be sheer agony. In desperation, he bore down on Steve's fingers, his reaction even hurting himself this time.

"Okay, okay," Steve quickly soothed, stopping his attempts entirely when he felt Danny's mounting stress. He rubbed at Danny's knuckles, trying to ease the stranglehold on his hand which Danny just couldn't seem to do. "But I've got to look, buddy. Let me check it out ...hold on. I'll go slow. Danny? Come on ... okay?"

Steve waited and Danny finally rocked his head on his forearm, half in understanding. He squeezed Steve's hand, but couldn't bring himself to let go. He needed the anchor in a desperate sort of way. The throbbing had intensified and he was just thankful that Steve wasn't trying to change his grip again. In fact, Steve was doing a dutiful job of keeping Danny's right arm perfectly immobile as he rocked back on his heels. Though it was awkward, Steve used his free hand to gently prod above Danny's elbow. Within seconds though, he was pausing and that lack of movement was telling. The softest of worried hisses escaped from his mouth and then Steve was all business.

"Okay, just ... we're not going to move him," Steve announced suddenly as he placed his free hand on the back of Danny's neck.

"Sir?" Junior questioned from somewhere overhead. "What is it? He's bleeding? What do we need?"

"We need to stabilize his arm. But I think ... an air-lift," Steve muttered under his breath before repeating himself more loudly. "Yeah, Junior help me out of this shirt and then find me a thick, sturdy stick about a foot long. And, I want him out of here ... Lou, call it in. Now. Right now."

"Air lift?" Danny objected weakly. He shook his head, eyes closed, feeling ever more cold and pathetically tired with every passing minute. "A stick? An air-lift and ... a _stick_? A-are you out of y-your mind?"

"Yeah - and no, in that order," Steve stated bluntly. Velcro ripped and there was a faint rustling sound. Steve's voice was briefly muffled. "You're bleeding, Danny and you need to do me a favor right now: do _not_ move." His hand pressed down harder on Danny's back when Danny's legs twitched; Danny certainly couldn't stay on his stomach the entire time. Being told he couldn't move only made him _want_ to move more. But Steve was insistent as he remained poised over Danny's prone body, his hand a heavy weight on Danny's back.

"Holy ... _shit,"_ Lou said. The was no small modicum of shock in the deep bass voice which suddenly boomed over his head and Danny felt a spike of alarm ripple through his chest. Apparently just as worried, the man was in complete agreement with his partner. "Yeah, I'll call it in ... keep him down ... Danny, don't you move ...we've got this." The man's bigger than life shadow was gone quicker than Danny could have imagined but two others remained close: Steve and Junior.

"Steve?" Danny asked, perturbed when he got no reply while Steve balanced there, evaluating him ... _worried about him_. Eyes closed, head buried in his arm, Danny scowled into the ground, utterly confused by the demands being made. Steve sounded distracted and that never boded well because it meant he was coming up with some ridiculous, off the charts, lame-brained idea. Or maybe he already had if he thought Danny needed a helo air-lift - a life flight - to a trauma center. But no, there was more as Danny heard the sound of material being ripped into pieces.

"Here, sir," Junior said and Danny's private scowl deepened, and this time not because of Junior's annoying habit.

"D'did you just take y-your shirt off?" Danny stammered without bothering to look.

"Shut up Danno," Steve muttered under his breath. "You're bleeding pretty badly and I need to do something about it."

Danny moaned in his throat. That was why Steve needed the stick ... the material ... he was bleeding and Steve had it in his head to make a tourniquet. He didn't need to stay flat out for that. He could at least get more comfortable, couldn't he?

"St-eve. Get me up," Danny started to say until Lou Grover interrupted his weaker voice.

"They'll be here in less than ten minutes," Lou announced. His words were rushed now, his voice sounding strained. "How's he doing?"

" _He's_ fine. What's goin' on?" Danny panted through the hot ache as he tried to raise his head. He needed to know what was going on and certainly couldn't stay stranded on his stomach. "Steve?"

"Danny, I'm serious. Don't move! We've got a bit of a problem," Steve informed him. "Junior? Did you get that stick?" He was curt but not unkind, and Danny chewed at his already blood-stained lip at the anxiety he heard in the tone. He ground his forehead back on his arm feeling useless and helpless. He'd hoped it didn't look as bad as it felt. Evidently... no luck there. If anything, the injury was worse than his brain could even imagine if Steve planned to use a tourniquet.

"Tell me. It ... _hurts_ ," Danny wheezed after a moment figuring he'd waited long enough for Steve to offer him an explanation. He turned his head, his cheek on his left forearm, his eyesight blurry from the awkward position. "S-Steve?"

There was another worried sigh and their eyes met. There was a desperate - almost devastated - quality to Steve's expression. Danny let his head fall back, his vision graying around the edges. He felt uncomfortably hot and cool at the same time when a light breeze buffeted the leaves and fronds of the foliage he lay under. He felt Junior nearby, even closer than before and then there was a careful, gentle pressure near the juncture of his elbow.

"Yeah. There," Steve murmured apparently to Junior before addressing Danny directly. "We need to wrap a piece of my shirt around your arm and then loop it over into a knot. The stick that Junior got will go through that loop like a handle ... and Danny, ... Junior's going to have to use that stick to turn the loop ...to tighten it. Boy Scout stuff, Danno ... I'm sure you know what I'm getting at."

He did and Danny swallowed hard, as he felt the pressure increasing just above his elbow, closer to the upper portion of his bicep. If he thought he hurt before, there'd be no comparison to what was coming.

"We'll go slow, buddy," Steve gently warned him. "Just breathe through it."

He still wasn't sure what exactly had happened but more telling, Steve had that tone of his which could calm the most skittish of animals and Danny briefly wondered where he'd learned it. From his father? The Navy? Maneuvers? Some bad experience he'd schooled himself to compartmentalize and manage dire situations with over time? Or, maybe Steve had just been born with this particular skill of being able to deliver the most terrifying of information in the calmest of ways.

"M'bleeding out?" Danny asked hoarsely as Steve softly directed Junior to tighten the loop of material. He grimaced as the pressure increased to a nearly unbearable point, unable to stop his fingers from spasming and just about crushing Steve's with every one of Junior's careful turns. He gagged and felt faint, his heartbeat thudding virtually in his ears.

"Easy. Not bleeding out. Just a precaution," Steve replied soothingly. Calmly in fact as he accepted the bone-breaking vise on his hand without complaint. In that same even intonation, he offered a simple explanation.

"It's ... close to an artery and ... and I just don't know how the hell this happened ..."

Danny snorted unexpectedly through his nose. An incredulous sound. He kept his eyes closed as an odd bubble of amusement made him smirk into his arm. As questions went, that one was darn stupid coming from his partner.

"Easy," Steve whispered gently and Danny could just imagine his fearful expression as a shudder ran through Danny's body. "Cold ... what's going on?" Steve asked next, compounding Danny's suspicions by sounding so damnably worried for him.

"Wh- _what_ do you mean _how,_ " Danny stammered. "H-how ..." He giggled softly, snorting again; giddy with pain and shock when he felt a foreign thing move under his skin near but higher up where Junior was now securing the too-tight tourniquet. The pain ratcheted up and Danny retched when he thought that he could feel some odd pulse point down his forearm. His fingers were slick from sweat and beginning to feel like ice and yet, he still maintained the grip he had on Steve's hand. It _hurt_ \- and blindingly so. Danny made an almost sickly noise as a spike of pain lanced towards his shoulder. He rubbed his forehead on his arm and thought about just breathing instead of the nausea which was on the rise. Having his eyes closed was evidently a good idea.

"Stupid ... dumb ass question," he rasped at the same time his body was rocked by a severe tremble.

"Danny, calm down for me," Steve whispered. "I'm sorry okay? Just please ... take it easy." His free hand brushed the few strands of hair from Danny's cheek which was dampened from sweat. He used that as another excuse for his fingers to linger next against Danny's neck, checking his pulse and looking for more signs of trouble.

"You're a bit shocky ... take it slow."

"Slow," Danny snorted the word into the dirt. What did Steve know about taking anything slow? "Maybe ... do you think ... it hap-pened ... because Steven, you never look before you leap and this time, I just happened to get too ... too _close_ to your penchant for insanity?" He was starting to ramble and some part of his brain knew he was going into shock despite the pain - or maybe even because of the pain. He couldn't quite remember which it was supposed to be; and really, did it matter? He shivered, feeling cold in the filtered sunlight of the day. His right hand felt like a brick of ice and Danny grimaced when he dimly realized that too, was shaking.

Shock. Trauma. This wasn't good at all. With a herculean effort, Danny focused on Steve's voice which was now waxing and waning in his ear.

"Oh okay, so of course this is _my_ fault," Steve said. His fingers brushed over Danny's cheek and neck again.

"Could be. Yes," Danny hissed through clenched teeth as he fought a sudden need to sleep. "And ... _geez_ ," he moaned as the pain reverberated through his bicep and into the base of his neck again. He nearly throttled Steve's fingers in half the pain was so bad, this time eliciting a similar sympathetic hiss of sound from Steve's lips and apology from Junior of all people.

"Seriously, take it easy," Steve whispered. "Let me just ... _think_."

"I'm sorry, sir," Junior added for Danny's benefit. But then he was speaking to Steve and over-using that damned title which Danny desperately focused on. "Helo is probably just a few minutes out; should we stabilize his arm, sir?"

"Would-ja please ... _please_ ...knock that off? Junior? _Please_?" Danny wheezed interrupting the younger man, fighting his body's desire to sleep. His eyelashes fluttered when he tried to look up despite the awkward position he was in.

"Sir?" Junior asked in bewilderment. The younger man was completely confused. With his eyes closed, Danny could only imagine the look on his face or that he might be staring blankly at Steve. Lacking energy after his short outburst, Danny's lips twitched into a smirk, hidden by his arm, when Steve smoothly provided the answer.

"That ...," Steve noted while he gave their joined a hands a gentle reassuring squeeze; one that also pleaded quietly with Danny to please, _please_ stop talking when Danny murmured a soft sound of thanks for being his voice. "The _sir crap_ ... not necessary, Junior."

"Yes, sir ... I mean no ... _ah_ ," Junior's voice petered out and Danny would have grinned if he could have. "Sorry."

"So ...so Danny," Steve began to say. "To answer your first question ... about what happened." Again, his voice was too calm and this time it was enough for Danny to win the struggle. He squinted his eyes open and sought out Steve's face. His vision was blurry and yet he could see enough. Looking into Steve's eyes wasn't any more reassuring.

"It looks like a few splinters of wood went into your arm and you're bleeding pretty bad. I think it missed the artery, but better safe than sorry ..."

"Zat 'all? Whaddaya need to think about then?" Danny interrupted almost petulantly. "J us' a splinter or two? Find a pair of tweezers. Pull'em out." He tried to smile but his lips felt like rubber; they weren't working and he was beginning to slur the words which he had inside his head. Suddenly, nothing wanted to come out of his mouth the right way.

"No can do," Steve said. "It's bleeding ... and I can't tell how ...where ... it is. The tourniquet is the best we can do ... that and keeping you and your arm stabilized until we have more hands on deck."

"Uh huh," Danny murmured. _Hands_ sounded good and he argued his fingers to feel Steve's hand. His arm and fingers were starting to feel cold. Tingly. Sometimes numb. His fingers twitched and squeezed around Steve's hand. He needed that anchor as he allowed his eyelids to flutter shut. He was tired and feeling sickly. His one last attempt at speaking was a slurry of words that he wasn't sure made sense at all.

"Duly ... noted ... Steve McGarrett doesn't stock tweezers." He giggled, more loudly and then choked back a laugh which tried to bubble up painfully out of his chest.

"It's not funny, Danny," Steve whispered, his worried voice now waxing and waning overhead. "Just ... focus on breathing .. enough talking." Nearly a million miles away.

"No," Danny muttered indistinctly. Then wondered why he'd said the word. He felt Steve practically bending himself in half to hear him speak. Had Danny's voice really become that weak?

"Stop trying to _talk_ ," Steve said. "Save your strength buddy." He was close to Danny's ear and his adopted sense of calm seemed to be leaving him. His tone had changed again and he was fidgety; Danny could sense the tension despite his diminishing level of awareness.

"You still can't f-fly and I still c-can't stop you f-from try'n," Danny insisted on pushing each word out of his mouth. It was mortifyingly hard to speak and the effort left him breathless. It sent his head reeling. The downwards spiral into darkness was teasing him in earnest now. No, not teasing him: it was right there in front of his closed lids as a frigid sense of cold settled into the lower half of his arm. The pain began to recede and Danny faintly realized that he could scarcely feel his fingertips.

"Steve?" He slurred lazily as his fingers began to go lax one by one. He tried to hang on but everything had gone numb. Danny knew he should be worried - should complain even - but the thought was as transient as the sound of Steve's voice or Junior's murmured concerns.

"Hey no. Stay with us," Steve demanded. "Danny ... stay awake; stay with me." But his voice was indistinct too. Farther away than before and fading into a flux of white-noise. Sound without words. A buzz in his ear.

As a wave of dizziness rippled through his body, Danny groaned, the sound more of a wheezed exhale - a tired bland note much like that of the air being let out of a balloon. The hard earth no longer felt so hard. And much of his pain had become muted. In the distance, a steady _whump-whump-whump_ reverberated through the white-noise before joining the static inside his head. It was gone before Danny could bother to decipher what it all had meant.

He lost consciousness then, falling into a bleakness which simultaneously broke the tie he had to Steve. Danny never felt his fingers fall completely lax in his partner's hand. He never heard Steve calling out his name.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "......  
> He'd done this far too many times. Sitting by himself in a cold, plastic molded chair just waiting to hear something about one of his team ... one of his men ... a friend.
> 
> Danny.  
> ......."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Notes: I went back and forth on posting this as a standalone chapter just w Steve's POV. Obviously I decided to post it alone rather than including what (should be) the final bit with Danny. So, tell me if it's a mistake after the last chapter goes up - would this all have been better together as one long chapter, or was having divided it a good thing? Same ol'caveats apply: mistakes are my own ... not a doctor ... etc. It's fiction folks!

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O**

 

He'd done this far too many times. Sitting by himself in a cold, plastic molded chair just waiting to hear something about one of his team ... one of his men ... a friend.

 _Danny_.

Steve scrubbed hard at his face before leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. He was exhausted. He fought looking at the things which were lying sealed in a clear, medical waste bag on the white linoleum between his feet for the umpteenth time. Three sharp, partly decayed, darkly bloodstained splinters of wood which the doctors had removed from Danny's tricep. Mementos from the surgeon who'd never seen anything of their ilk. For some reason, the man had assumed Steve would want to see them too. Maybe even show them to Danny like some macabre set of trophies.

Steve wasn't as impressed as the surgeon might have assumed.

Not one could be simply called a splinter. Each had needed to be surgically removed. But one old piece of wood in particular didn't deserve that benign name at all. More of a long, knife-like shard with a rusted piece of metal at its thicker end, there was no way it could be compared to a mere thin splinter of wood. Nearly eight-inches long and with a jagged thickness of almost three-inches, this  _spike_  had done the most damage in what the doctors termed a freak accident. In Steve's mind though, calling what had happened a freak accident was the easy way out. There was a clear explanation - a root cause. What happened to his partner could have been avoided. So did that still make it an accident?

He scrubbed harder at his face trying to un-see how the bloody spike had pierced Danny's arm on a frightening angle, leaving only its ugly metal flange visible. Faux sparkles of light flashed behind his closed eyelids but he could only see the gore. Steve groaned softly under his breath. His attempts at banishing the image were futile and he let his head sag lower towards the floor. He should have gone home to rest like he'd been told to do hours before. But he couldn't bring himself to leave the hospital and it was too late now to take a chance. He wouldn't be going anywhere until he saw Danny for himself.

He squinted his eyes open, his line of sight was directly over the medical waste bag. The baggie's contents were putting a constant pall over what he'd been told and he glanced at his watch, mentally tallying up the five and a half plus whatever hours he'd been waiting. Steve had been complimented by the doctors for doing all the right things. The simple tourniquet to keep blood loss to a minimum, moving his partner as little as possible and stabilizing Danny's arm. All the right things had kept this longest piece of wood from further compromising the brachial artery.

On one level Steve was enormously relieved by the good news, but he felt far from  _proud_  and the compliments fell flat. They only mattered to him because Danny was gong to be fine.

He'd made a mistake. Charging ahead like a bull in a china shop, he'd made an extreme error in judgement and he'd unnecessarily jeopardized, not only his, but his partner's well-being. Really, his entire team's.

Steve's fingers twitched feeling empty.  _Lost_. When Danny had lost his grip on consciousness, he'd lost the bone-cracking hold he'd maintained on Steve's hand. Still even now, it didn't take much for Steve to keep feeling that ghost-image of Danny's fingers. That was in great part to Steve not letting go even when Danny had lost his battle. Another raw compliment from the doctors given to Steve since he'd been relentless in keeping Danny's arm straight and essentially immobilized until help had arrived. Another good move. The medi-vac - the medical airlift. One more wise decision.

Steve snorted under his breath in self-derision. This never should have happened. He hadn't meant to follow their perp that closely and he'd lost track of the trail. He hadn't realized the trail was so near the falls or that the old fence was an ancient, crumbling barricade to keep people from a weakening earthy edge of ground. He'd slipped up. Steve couldn't get near to reconciling those truths yet though. He'd made a mistake and only  _Danny's_  quick thinking had saved ...  _him._

Danny probably would never believe him and Steve might not expect him to; maybe he didn't deserve that courtesy either. Danny should have _let go._  Then again, Steve had no right to think he ever would have done such a thing; no matter what or where, Danny always had his back.

Reluctantly, Steve looked down at the clear bag. Its contents stared back at him with the dangerous spike taking center stage. Its jagged end still looked damp and its ruddy color seemed to hold a subtle moist shine. He still couldn't believe how long the damned thing was or how very lucky they'd been that it hadn't sliced through the brachial artery in Danny's arm. Danny had lost plenty of blood as it was. He'd gone into shock and ... he'd barely escaped major nerve damage.

"Commander?"

Steve's head snapped up and he was on his feet, fighting off his morose thoughts. Medical bag automatically in hand, he was instantly face-to-face with his partner's primary physician. "Yes? How is he?" Steve asked. If there was an anxious tone to his voice, he couldn't help it.

"Resting comfortably," the physician shared with a soothing smile. "He may wake but it's far more likely that he'll sleep for a while yet; but you can visit with him if you'd like."

Steve's fingers twitched and for one miserable second he felt like running away. But he nodded, on automatic pilot, baggie in hand, he followed the doctor with at least one half of his brain paying avid attention to what he was being told about his partner's complete condition. Another much smaller portion of his brain also heard the doctor's admonition that he shouldn't stay long - needn't need to stay long - and perhaps, he might go home at some point to get some rest himself. Steve barely heard that recommendation which was no matter because he discounted what he did hear at the same time. He was also far too tired to be annoyed; it was easier to let that advice just go to the wayside. Instead, Steve nodded politely and thanked the man, hearing what he wanted, ignoring what was left until he found himself in Danny's room.

He heard everything the doctor had said about Danny's injuries and timeline for release and recovery, however Steve would be hard-pressed right then to repeat it verbatim. Standing at the foot of Danny's hospital bed, Steve never noticed the doctor leave. He heaved in a lungful of air, hoping to ease his body's tension. It did little good, though. As the doctor had initially said, Danny was sleeping but it only took Steve a few quiet seconds to take note of the damage done to his partner. The raw scrape on Danny's chin from where he'd hit the ground when the fence had first failed. The subtle blackish-blue blush of a bruise blossoming upwards towards a slightly swollen lip.

Steve shook his head at the few leads and monitors; the intravenous lines supplying antibiotics or pain medications or plain fluids. He saw just how Danny's right arm had been elevated, propped up to take the pressure off the major wounds on the back of his tricep. No doubt that support was just as helpful to the badly wrenched shoulder and neck muscles. Steve hadn't meant to lose track of the trail or be so close to the edge of the trail. He'd made a mistake ... but this was the real end result and this is what mattered now because ... Danny never should have gotten hurt.

Knowing he'd be staying for quite a while longer, Steve crept quietly to the corner of the room to take sentry in the available chair. Meant for patients, the chair was more of a large leatherette recliner. Its location was perfect though for Steve to have a birds-eye view of the hospital bed and Danny's face. There was no comparison to the hard plastic chair he'd just vacated in the waiting room. But sitting there in the half-light of the hospital room and listening to the predictable sounds of the various machines, Steve would know the instant his partner would wake.

 

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " ....  
> The dim silhouette of the gun was obvious even as it lurched awkwardly through the air. Danny whined in his chest. He couldn't breathe as the perp's hand stilled in an almost dramatic way. ......"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Notes: well wow ... this is NOT the draft which was first written by said, cooperative muse at the start of this romp. This is entirely different after the evil, breakfast bunny broke loose over night. And Miss Phoebe ... who fed the breakfast bunny extra special carrots ... an extra chapter ...
> 
> Word of the Day - Penchant: a strong or habitual liking for something or tendency to do something.
> 
> Or, in Danny's case: I will follow Steve no matter his penchant for getting (me) into trouble ...

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O**

 

_The faces in front of him swam in and out of view. A mockery of images. First their perp, then Steve and then himself. Back again. An odd out of sequence blur ... the perp running ... Steve's back ... a broken fence ... Steve's stunned shouts ... a cry for help ... letgoletgoletgo ... A body broken at the bottom of a cliff. An endless macabre loop of three faces inches from Danny's nose as he lay prone at the bottom of the falls. He wanted to look away but Danny couldn't stop seeing them._

_Lying prone, arms splayed wide, he watched the sickly rotation quicken. An out-of-focus, black and white snapshot._

_Danno ... Danno ..._ _letgoletgoletgo ... Dannoooo ..._

He opened his eyes in the middle of Steve mouthing his name over blood-stained lips, a second before the haze of dark hair was overcome by his own lighter dirty-blond. The loop was starting again. Air stuck in his throat, heart thudding inside his chest, he - _opened his eyes_ \- expecting to see the worst. But fingers buried in the linens of a hospital bed, Danny didn't see any of that. Instead the too-bland of the room replaced water, dirt and jungle. The sickening splintered kaleidoscope of bloody faces dissolved away. Other than his own discordant, raspy panting, the sounds of the vital signs monitor and distant ambient noise of voices proved the normalcy of real life outside the deafness of his nightmare.

View limited, Danny stayed wide-eyed as he glanced rapidly around the room. The working part of his brain told him he was fine, that he'd merely survived a dream, while the heavily medicated portion insisted parts of that nightmare had to have been true. On the verge of panic, his eyes settled on the dark shape in the corner of the room. In the shadows, and for another terrible instant, that evil part of Danny's brain played one last trick on him.

It wasn't Steve slumbering in the corner, legs every which way. One arm flung over the side of the heavy chair, fingertips just scraping the floor. It was the lanky frame of their perp. Cocky and grinning gleefully, he was watching Danny as closely as he was being watched, minus the fear which was beginning to leak off Danny in waves. The perp's hand moved off the linoleum, jerking upward brokenly. A marionette on its last legs. The dim silhouette of the gun was obvious even as it lurched awkwardly through the air. Danny whined in his chest. He couldn't breathe as the perp's hand stilled in an almost dramatic way. Unwavering now, Danny stared at the skeletal hand which was now eye-level. A hand ruined by years of hard living and worser deeds. The hand was attached to a skinny wrist which was broken and yet, that gun now didn't move and in ever-rising fear, Danny watched as the man's thumb stroked the hammer before slowly pulling it back ...

... _click by click ..._

The whine in Danny's throat became a louder shrill sound of horror and two things broke through his terrifying almost hypnotic daze. An alarm blaring loudly over his head as his heart rate skyrocketed and Steve's immediate reaction which dissolved the image in a faux sparkle of light.

" _Whoa_! Help in here!" Steve shouted as Danny tore upright in the bed, gasping and then gurgling a sound much like a wounded animal. He grasped at his injured arm and fell sideways into the bedrail as pain ricocheted up and down the entire length of his appendage. More pain, thick and hot, flared across his neck and both shoulders, leaving him panting and twisting in agony.

"Danny! What the hell happened ... what's wrong?" Steve asked him desperately as he vainly tried to help, then called out again. "Come on! I need someone. _Now_!" Mindful of the injured arm and leads, Steve was opting to hold Danny down as gently as he could as others entered the room on a run.

"Commander?"

"Detective Williams? Can you tell me what's wrong ... _Detective_?"

The voices were almost white noise, the words practically indecipherable over the scream of the heart monitor. After the machine was silenced, Danny didn't recognize any of them except for Steve's more strident voice and frankly, didn't care to. He heard Steve's worried replies that he wasn't sure what had just happened to his partner. Anger warred with concern that, no matter what, this was unacceptable on all levels. Danny almost smirked to himself at that. Steve - _angry_ \- was a force to be reckoned with.

"What. Happened." Steve's clipped words to the medical staff were demand, not question. Danny clearly heard them and his normal sarcastic comment of _'if you only knew'_ flashed across his wounded mind. Unable to speak coherently though, Danny let it all go, sensing that he'd earned himself more pain meds and likely even a sedative. He needed the pain meds. No lie there, but didn't wholly desire the sedative despite the the way his heart refused to behave itself.

"Danno? Try to relax, buddy," Steve was saying, close to his ear now. "Doctor's here ... you'll feel better in a minute. Just breathe."

Again Steve's words broke through and Danny clung to the sound of his voice. He finally was coherent enough to realize Steve still maintained a rather firm hold of his shoulders just shy of where he hurt the most. Under Steve's hands, Danny focused on breathing and trying to relax. He was finally able to see Steve's face and he stared upwards, cataloguing the fact that Steve ... was _Steve_. Alive and whole. Not _dead_ ... not _broken_ into a million pieces at the foot of some lone, Hawaiian waterfall. Their eyes held and Steve tried to offer him a soothing smile, but Danny had done a grand job of equally scaring his friend half to death.

And that thought was almost funny. Dead ... not dead ... but scared that far back ... to _death_? It wasn't fair and Danny knew he wasn't making sense inside his rattled brain. Another unfair and not so funny joke dared flash across his mind and Danny made a sound then. He couldn't hold it back. One that Steve at least recognized as a parody of a giggle despite its shrillness and oddly hoarse-sounding falter at its end.

"Alright, alright. Take it easy," Steve said as he sat on the edge of the bed, shaken and worried. Around him, the chaos seemed to continue as the medical staff hovered closely. Forced to move just a bit, Steve chose to at least keep one hand on Danny's left shoulder. Likely a precautionary move in case he might try to move again, but Danny was much too rattled now - too much in pain - as reality returned.

"What was that, _huh_?"

Danny shook his head feeling lost, _traumatized_ as the pain slowly came down but he still couldn't manage it. Breathing hard, he couldn't answer the simplest of questions and Steve noticed. The gentle squeeze to his shoulder had his friend making demands again and Danny let him. Eyes closed, a few more minutes passed by and a nasal cannula was placed under his nose. A brief delay later, and Danny felt an obvious warmth spread through his body; sedative indeed.

"Take it easy, buddy," Steve said as the pace remained attentive around his bed. "Easy ... let the meds do their job. You're in good hands. Breathe, buddy. Just focus on breathing. Doc needs to check your arm out ... "

Though he appreciated the warning, Danny groaned as his arm was lifted and repositioned. He vaguely heard the doctor order pain medication and demand other things which he didn't quite catch. The deep ache reached into his neck and upper back and he was panting, stuck waiting for both the sedative and pain medication to really take affect. He lay there limply, soaked in sweat, as the sheets were briefly removed and his body re-arranged on his behalf. His legs, his injured arm ... once more elevated on a pillow and its dressing rechecked. His upper body was gently shifted to a more comfortable position with Steve's help, the head of the bed now slightly raised to ease his breathing. Danny tiredly squinted his eyes back open when the sheets were replaced.

Steve was right there. Resolute and determined; his expression hadn't changed all that much from when Danny had first woken. But now with the blanket tucked back around his chest, his vitals resuming a more normal level, the activity in the room was falling back to a calm. And Steve should have also been calmer; he was not. At a loss of what to do next, he unexpectedly got to his feet only to bring Danny a small cup of water.

"Here ... drink," Steve said as he held the straw steady so that Danny wouldn't have to fumble with his left hand. "Geez, Danny ...," he murmured shakily as Danny coped with taking a few sips. "What the hell just happened?"

"Detective?" It was the doctor who was trying again, seconding Steve's question, and Danny managed a nod of acknowledgement. His gaze flickered to the man and he saw him as if for the first time, and maybe it was. Danny couldn't really remember if they'd officially met. Regardless, there was something harried about the man's expression and Danny knew that he'd given the doctor a run for his money. He owed him an explanation.

"Dream ... nightmare," Danny whispered, feeling a bit foolish though no one suggested that might not be a good enough reason. In fact, it was the doctor who supplied additional credence by _not_ reacting at all. The man's expression eased and he nodded in understanding.

"You've been through a lot, Detective," the doctor said. "Anesthesia ... pain meds ... a nightmare or two are not unheard of. You're going to be fine, so try to get some rest now."

Danny nodded again, slightly appeased, fighting the need to close his eyes. Steve wasn't going to budge from his perch on the side of the bed and Danny looked at him now that the medical staff had begun to leave the room. His friend's eyes were still fraught with uncertainty and no small amount of concern. About to strangle the small cup of water, Steve seemed to be vibrating with pent-up energy; none of it good.

"A dream? Seriously?" Steve asked as the last nurse quietly left the room. He glanced over his shoulder to confirm she'd gone and then turned his full attention back to Danny. "Are you okay? Really?" By the look on his face, he remained doubtful of Danny's short explanation. But it was the truth and Steve could only frown when Danny nodded again.

"Yeah. Bad one ...," Danny replied in a whisper. "I'm okay ... now." His own voice was tinny in his ear, strained and small, leaving neither of them convinced. "It's ... gone already. At least ... mostly." He failed at smiling, incapable of stopping himself from glancing towards the chair which Steve had been sitting in.

It was a chair. Just a plan, ordinary recliner. No bad guy or gun in sight: dead or otherwise. Danny was faintly aware that Steve had followed his line of sight, too. Kindly though and despite being unconvinced, Steve didn't question anything more.

In the newfound quiet, the two regarded each other, long and hard. Steve swallowed, his gaze purposefully falling on Danny's injured arm. "Listen," he said. "This shouldn't have happened. On the trail? I wasn't paying attention ... and now this." He motioned towards Danny's arm and then helplessly looked around the hospital room as if he could validate his words.

"You should have let go, Danny," Steve said.

_... letgoletgoletgo ..._

Danny cringed at the too-soon feeling of deja vu. _No_. But before he could answer, Steve was talking again. There was a new sense of anguish in his eyes and he hardly seemed able to look Danny in the face. "Why the hell didn't you let _go_? You could have ... died. Your arm ..."

"No ... no. Stop saying that," Danny finally said out loud as he stared upwards into Steve's face which had dared begun to blur again as the medication began its journey through his system. This wasn't the time to get into such a discussion and Danny rolled his head rather helplessly on the pillow able to ignore the duller ache in his neck. He had to force his eyes to stay open and his mouth to work to at least say a few words.

"You're kidding, right?" Danny asked, pleased when he also was able to communicate how ridiculous he felt Steve's question might be because he'd never _let go_ in any scenario that his beleaguered mind could come up with. "Steve?" He added softly when Steve sighed, his exasperation and worry tantamount. "It was an _accident_."

"Shouldn't have happened," Steve muttered under his breath and Danny smirked as his eyelids dipped closed. _He wouldn't argue that one._ It shouldn't have happened but it had - and nonetheless, Danny would maintain one particular truth even as he fought to stay awake for these last few minutes. He was tired, heavily medicated and when he tried to clench the pudgy, swollen fingers of his right hand, the heavy ache was still there.

No it shouldn't have happened, but that was the very definition of an _accident_ , wasn't it?

Though down to a much duller roar, his arm throbbed in time to his heartbeat from his shoulder to his fingertips. He lacked the strength to argue and neither of them had the room for blame. Blinking through a haze which began to blur Steve's features into a pale nondescript canvas, voice failing him, Danny hoped that Steve would hear him. He hoped that Steve would believe him.

"It was an accident," Danny whispered into the air as his eyes fluttered closed.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " .....
> 
> "Steve?" Danny said softly. "It was an accident. You know that right?"
> 
> "I did at one time," Steve responded just as quietly. "At the hospital ... I thought what had happened had been an accident and wondered if you'd ever believe me."
> 
> Danny snorted through his nose. "Seriously? Did you hear what I just said?" Danny asked. "I'm telling you - agreeing with you." Here he was finally admitted that something wasn't his partner's fault and Steve wasn't all over him, gleefully taking advantage of what he'd just said. ......"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Notes: sorry for the delay - derailed muse = derailed final chapter and just not enough time in a week. My thanks to Phoebe and Swifters for multiple bunny beatings ... and to JazzieG for a comment that then was so nicely interspersed into this last chapter.
> 
> So here it is: I hope this final chapter makes sense and delivers a nice wrap-up. Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews.

 

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O**

 

Danny sat in the adirondack chair trying to convince himself that he was staying at Steve's - and not even bringing up the concept of leaving - not _because_ he needed help, but because Steve _needed_ to help him more. He kept coming back full circle though. It was little bit of both, wasn't it? With his right arm out of commission for the next few days; nearly two weeks. He _did_ need help. But Danny smiled to himself as he stared out at the water which was cast a pretty mauve color by the sunset. For Steve it was more than that.

_"Come on Danno," Steve had said in the hospital room just two days earlier. He'd been pacing nearly nonstop. More frenetically than usual. Desperate for Danny to hear him out and to say yes to his idea._

_"I want to do this for you ...oh hell!" Flustered and oddly more upset than Danny had assumed Steve might be, his friend had then literally scrubbed both hands through his hair._

_"Listen. Getting you shot warrants an apology, right? So what the hell am I supposed to do about this, huh? Just a day ... at least the first night since you're on pretty strong meds. You can't even wash up properly. ..."_

Danny remembered his mouth falling open and wanting to object. He didn't know why Steve was blaming himself for the accident. Danny clearly remembered him trying to backpedal to a stop before skidding over the slick ground. Steve might have momentarily gotten ahead of himself on the tight trail, but he certainly hadn't meant to follow their perp to that extent. Danny _knew_ that.

He couldn't remember if he'd said a single word though. Steve hadn't given him a chance. He'd at least nodded somewhere along the line, giving in to his partner's stronger penchant to help him: to contrive some way to apologize for something that wasn't his fault. Steve had insisted and Danny might have failed at talking, but he'd agreed. Apparently Danny had done that much because Steve's exultant smile had been fairly beaming with relief. He'd then eagerly shuttled Danny to his place and then helped him wash the medicinal stink of the hospital out of nose without getting his arm wet. Helped him - _more like forced him_ \- to eat a few bites of food and then happily shoe-horned him into the spare bed for a _nap_.

Danny didn't take naps. _Ever_. But he had on day one and then again on day two. God help him, he'd even taken a two-hour nap after lunch that very afternoon and for some reason, his eyes were closing again. So now, on the cusp of the third night, Danny was sitting quietly in the shade of the house, watching the sun set over the waves and still not making a fuss about leaving.

Nonetheless, he should be begging off the molly-coddling. He was just being lazy. Surely Steve's self-inflicted period of penance was paid up in full and now Danny was probably taking advantage of the situation. He should be insisting that Steve take him home so Steve could have his house back and so that things could return to normal. Danny figured that he'd be just fine and perfectly able to cope with one arm in a sling. A little awkward, sure. But no big deal. The thing was, as his eyes began to dip closed again and he yawned so big that his jaw practically cracked, Danny just didn't feel like moving an inch. Instead, protecting his injured arm with his left hand at the elbow, Danny levered himself a bit more sideways to take some pressure off his sore neck.

He groaned under his breath. He needed to get up and go to the house. He was starting to hurt because he was due for meds and ...

"Here. You're due for your meds," Steve announced as he suddenly appeared by his right shoulder. Danny blinked, startled by Steve's silent arrival, as well as by the perfect timing of the delivery of said medication.

"Incredible," Danny hummed under his breath, his lips tilting into a lop-sided grin. Without looking, Danny reached up for Steve to drop the two small white pills into the palm of his left hand. The glass of water was in front of his nose the second he'd popped the pills into his mouth. He might not be looking directly at Steve, but Steve was certainly watching both him and the clock like a hawk.

"You look sore," Steve said as he tapped his watch with his forefinger, validating Danny's thoughts. "You need 'em ... stay on schedule."

Danny wondered if someone could 'look sore' just sitting in a chair. But he apparently looked uncomfortable enough for Steve to just come out and say that. So he didn't question it as he thanked his partner for the timely dose. He _was_ sore and he _did_ need to stay ahead of what could become a terrible, heated throbbing from the base of his skull and down through both shoulder blades. A deep ache that could refuse to let up for hours on end.

"Thanks," Danny said, meaning it as a rumble of pain arced from his tricep down to his wrist. He hissed softly under his breath while flexing his fingers. He might have missed some significant nerve damage, but the unexpected twinges were sometimes hot and sharp. Mind boggling, really.

"No problem," Steve replied as he turned towards the ocean. Even if he looked impassive, Steve had blatantly seen the spasm. He rarely missed anything at all. Steve was clearly pleased with his ongoing intervention and Danny shook his head helplessly while eyeing his partner's profile.

"I should, uh, really pack up," Danny forced himself to say. "Go home ... " He glanced up at Steve, wincing through the subtle pull. Even if he'd meant what he'd just said, he'd have lost any battle. Steve stood there. An immovable force of one against what, Danny had no clue; not even bothering to swing back to look at Danny as he squared his shoulders. The Commander in Steve was in full view right then and Danny wasn't going anywhere.

"Nah, it's almost dark," Steve said out loud. "There's no problem with you hanging out for another day." He had his hands on his hips now as he gazed out over the Pacific. The sun was nearly halfway down, sinking lower on the horizon with every passing second. Pink had become splashed by a blackish-stain of dark red down its center and a soft glimmer of light kept Steve's face just visible enough.

"Fine," Danny murmured. _Another day?_ He sighed heavily, half annoyed with himself for not insisting and partly with Steve for being so officious. What was the point though? It was late and he was still bone-tired; the medication would only make him more-so. Maybe now was the time though for him to bring up the very delicate subject they'd been afraid to discuss.

"Steve?" Danny said softly. "It was an accident. You know that right?"

"I did at one time," Steve responded just as quietly. "At the hospital ... I thought what had happened had been an accident and wondered if you'd ever believe me."

Danny snorted through his nose. "Seriously? Did you hear what I just said?" Danny asked. "I'm telling you - agreeing with you." Here he was finally admitted that something wasn't his partner's fault and Steve wasn't all over him, gleefully taking advantage of what he'd just said. He struggled to his feet, slightly hunched over due to muscles that were incredibly tight.

"Sit down, Danny," Steve said as he quickly swung towards him. "You're supposed to be taking it easy ..." But Danny shook his head as he poked Steve in the arm. Nope, now was the time to get this over with whether he stayed another day, or not.

"It was an _accident,"_ Danny said before grinning almost wickedly. "One that I could have avoided by ever meeting ... well ... _you_ for instance ... on this pineapple infested hell-hole." He snorted again through his nose because that was true, too, in a weird, crazy sort of way. Steve didn't laugh though. In fact, he didn't even take the bait.

"It was a stupid, stupid move on my part," Steve said, clearly focused on Danny's injury.

"Really? My meeting you ... all those years ago was ... stupid?" Danny smirked tiredly, trying to ease the mood and moderately pleased when Steve's face darkened despite the playful delivery of Danny's comments.

"No, not that!' Steve amended in frustration. He scrubbed hard at his face and Danny bit his lip to stop from grinning even more because that would be unfair and their conversation was a serious one. Smothering his wont to smile, he waited instead for Steve to gather his thoughts.

"This shouldn't have happened. I wasn't paying attention ... on the trail."

"I know," Danny said in all honesty. "I do ... I _know_. Aren't you listening to what I'm saying? How many times do I have to say that I know that, huh?"

"You know _what_ exactly?" Steve asked, refusing to give in entirely to Danny's easier conclusions; an odd thing and nearly a role reversal for the two of them in any of their discussions. Danny was beginning to wonder if that wasn't the problem all unto itself. "That I'm stupid? That this shouldn't have happened ... or that I wasn't aware of ... _you_."

"All of the above," Danny noted rather lamely, earning another dark unhappy look from his partner. "Yeah, I _know_ all of that, too, but I also know that you tried to stop." He sighed, taking a minute to gather his own thoughts because he was feeling tired again and the circular discussion was exhausting. He was losing steam. "I was behind you ... remember? I was _behind_ you ... I _saw_ you ... it was too late for you to stop, but I _saw_ you try ... "

"Why didn't you at least stop then?" Steve hissed out softly between his teeth. "If you saw what was going to happen ... why didn't you _stop_?"

"Why didn't I stop?" Danny was taken aback for a minute. He'd never considered _stopping_. Not once. The question was what? Stupid? How could he have stopped, too? He'd seen Steve hurtle the fence and then try to stop his momentum at the last minute. He'd seen Steve's shocked expression as he tried to windmill to a heart-stopping, gut-wrenching _stop_ on one hip.

Without even thinking Danny had followed in Steve's footsteps with one specific goal in mind: to grab his partner before it was too late.

"I'm losing count of how many times you've almost died in front of me and I'll never let it happen if I can help it," Danny said with a weary sigh. He closed his eyes, breathing in the night air as he tried to clear his head. The setting sun and the dusky twilight weren't helping things and he had to blink furiously to force himself to center.

"Let's go in," Steve said. "You need to get off your feet."

"Stop telling me what to do," Danny complained without any heat. Steve already had a hold of his good arm and was turning him gently towards the house. Danny went along willingly enough. But he'd be damned if he'd stop talking entirely.

"Steven ..."

"No listen. I'm sorry," Steve said. "I mean it - I made a mistake ... I did but, I still say you should have stopped if you saw what was going to happen ... and you _definitely_ should have let go!"

"No! Nope," Danny replied. He pulled out of Steve's grip, forcing him to hesitate. "Do you have a mental block? Do you prefer what could have happened? Because I sure as hell don't." He dug his heels in as they made the lanai. The lights weren't on in the house yet and it was just as dark here on the lanai as on the beach. Danny could hardly see Steve's' face. He could see enough though.

"I'll never let go when it matters, Steven, because I can't deal with the alternative. Could you?" He looked at Steve, daring him to say otherwise. "If it was me ... could you?" He stood there waiting for Steve to realize he wasn't speaking in the past tense anymore and that any other action yielding some other outcome would be wholly unacceptable for either one of them. "Someone's gotta save _you_ from you," he added. "Including in my nightmares and even in those, I'm _not_ sorry. So every damned time you think you're going to break that fool neck of yours, just know that I'm going to be in your damned back-pocket. If you're so worried about me now doing that and being right there with you, then maybe that knowledge will slow you down later - that way you won't have to apologize so much for nearly getting me killed."

Steve shook his head. "This is too easy," he said. " _Maybe_. I'm missing something ... you _never_ move on ... ever. From anything."

"Let's just say that after all of these years, I've finally accepted a few things about you. And now, you're just going to have to accept a few things about me," Danny said. He raised an eyebrow but Steve only frowned more and Danny rolled his eyes. "I accept your stupid penchant for getting _me_ into trouble. So now it's your turn."

"My turn for what? But ... I didn't ... I don't ...," Steve stammered. He closed his mouth when Danny raised that singular eyebrow again and then cocked his head just a bit to the right. Steve narrowed his eyes, thinking so hard that Danny could almost see the wheels turning inside his head.

"Seriously? You don't get it - _seriously_? How many times do I have to repeat myself? I'm never letting go," Danny repeated stubbornly. "I won't stay back ... I'm not going to leave you when ..."

"Okay, okay," Steve said helplessly. "All right! I get it ...and you're right. You win."

Danny smirked, making sure that Steve saw his reaction. "Oh come on, Danny!" Steve blurted in surprise as he accidentally was bested through his own admission.

"Always," Danny replied lightly, smiling as Steve rolled his eyes towards the heavens.

_**~ End. ~** _


End file.
